


With My Eyes Closed

by ashesgalaxy



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Bottom Keith, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt, Halsey - Freeform, Hurt No Comfort, I have no idea where this came from, Langst, M/M, Past!Sheith - Freeform, SHEITH - Freeform, Shiro - Freeform, Smut, Songfic, but i'm still providing, i'm probably missing a lot of tags tbh, keith - Freeform, kind of?, klance, klangst, lance - Freeform, literally nobody asked for this, morally ambiguous - Freeform, no physical cheating, no violence at all, not really graphic idk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-25
Updated: 2018-02-25
Packaged: 2019-03-23 17:28:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13792593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashesgalaxy/pseuds/ashesgalaxy
Summary: Lance loves when Keith gives him attention. When they wash dishes together, when he gets little pieces of backstory out of him, when Keith lets them be intimate. He wants to do everything he can to get Keith to open up, let his guard down, and let Lance in.Keith used to be like Lance.Keith treats Lance how Shiro treated him.(Or some sort of langst klangst that came out of nowhere.-Inspired by Eyes Closed by Halsey.)





	With My Eyes Closed

**Author's Note:**

> If I keep my eyes closed he looks just like you.

            Rain prattles down on the overhang of the porch, steady drips making the wooden boards dark and wet. Keith keeps a cigarette between his first and middle finger, the orange glow of the tip the only thing bright in the dreary greyness of the evening.

            “Keith?”

            Keith looks over his shoulder. Lance is outside now, with an old, threadbare blanket that probably needed a good wash or two draped over his shoulders. His bare feet were probably getting wet. He wished he’d have put on shoes so he wouldn’t get sick.

            “Yeah?”

            “Are you… coming back in?”

            Keith pulls another drag from his cigarette, pushing the smoke forcefully through his lips. There was nothing poetic about it. It was like a necessity; something desperate and weak about it.

            “Yeah.”

            He supposes the cigarette wasn’t the only thing bright out here now. Lance’s blue eyes flickered over him and back before he finally nods and goes back inside. As Keith stubs the paper stick, he considers that. Lance had nice eyes, he supposes.

 

            Lance is over his body, and Keith lays with his weight in his shoulders. It is all too easy, so scripted. A sound here, a praise there. It pushes the other to continue, like he was conditioned to respond to such simple phrases.

            Before he knows it, he’s breathing hard with a face pressed into his shoulder.

            “Wow,” the illusion Keith had built up in his head shattered into small pieces at the voice. “you really know exactly what to say and do, yeah?”

            “Yeah.” Keith breathes back.

            “I’m really glad we got to know each other, you know?” Lance presses on. “That we realized we can actually get along and everything. I’m really happy.”

            Keith rolls over and presses his lips to Lance’s in a long kiss, cupping his cheek as he did so. He brushed his thumb over the arching cheekbone, noticing the difference in bone structures. A soft, angled face instead of a strong, squared jaw. Keith presses a second, sloppier kiss to Lance’s lips so he didn’t have to respond. Lance seemed to take it as an answer, and honestly, he could take it however he wanted. He seemed satisfied enough, so Keith got up and headed to the shower.

 

            “I didn’t know you smoked.”

            Keith was elbow deep in piss-warm, soapy water. He just shrugged noncommittedly.

            “Just an old habit or…?”

            “I mean, does it bother you or something?” Keith asks quietly, putting a chipped glass bowl upside down on the stained, orange drying towel. Lance walks over, picking up the bowl and putting it back into the water as he went before he stopped to work at the dried oatmeal on the sides that Keith hadn’t been able to clean off completely.

            “No, you’re okay.” Lance says. “Just, I want to know more about you. Now that we’re together.”

            Keith nods, wordlessly passing a cup with a coffee stain in the bottom to Lance.

            “I mean,” the nervousness is there, creeping onto Lance’s face, plain as day. Keith kept his emotions in check at all times. He mastered the art of burying his deepest thoughts and feelings into the cold grave of his mind where nobody could ever find them. It was so different, startling, almost, to see Lance being so openly uncertain. “we are together, right?”

            Keith just nods, sorting the silverware. The prong of a bent fork caught the handle of a spoon, making a short clanging. “Yeah. We live together, don’t we?”

            Lance smiles, like Keith’s reassurance was all he needed. It was so simple, so easy to please him. “Yeah, we do! Of course.” He kisses Keith’s cheek, turning off the tap and pulling out the drain stop. “I’ll get started on dinner while you meet up with your friend. What sounds good?” he prompts. Keith watches him push some hair behind his ear, his damp fingers making the brunet ends curl against his golden-brown skin. He didn’t remember the last time he himself had been so openly eager.

            Yes he did.

            “Whatever you want.”

 

            “Apart from sex, I mean.”

            Shiro sounded a little fed up with him, which was nothing new. Keith took a sip from his glass of water, leaning back in his chair to sum up the man across from him. He simply shrugs.

            “I don’t know. We live together. We have sex. He likes me.”

            Shiro sighs, putting a hand to his hair in frustration, like he had created a monster and was disappointed in the result. That wasn’t too far from the truth, really. Keith watches as Shiro’s hand twists the black strands near the front, the precipitation from his cup he’d been holding causing it to look like the ends were dipped in wet ink. Keith remembers when the damp ends of Shiro’s black hair were so close to Keith’s own, they merged, indistinguishable from one another.

            “He likes you.” Shiro echoes.

            “It’s a start.” Keith mutters coldly.

            “Are you going to order something besides water?”

            Keith glances at the fogged-up glass with the yellowed plastic straw swirling inside the liquid. It tasted like unfiltered pool water.

            “No.”

            Keith couldn’t dream of spending money on an outing with his ex-boyfriend when he never even took Lance on a date. He’d drink the free water to give him something to do, so he wasn’t sitting in front of Shiro all wide eyed, giving him his full attention. He didn’t deserve it.

            “Keith,” Shiro says, pulling a familiar face. The face that said he was choosing his words carefully. The face he pulled before he told Keith that they should see other people. “do you even like him?”

            Keith scowls. Shiro wanted to talk to him, why was he bringing up Lance so much?

            “He’s got pretty eyes. Blue. Brighter than yours.” Keith says, lifting the straw out of his glass and into his mouth to chew up the end. It used to drive Shiro crazy when he’d chew shit up. Straws, ink pens, you name it. He remembers Shiro’s exasperation upon finding the cuffs of his good hoodies frayed. But now he didn’t get to tell Keith to knock it off. “Yours are all… grey and shit.”

            Shiro ignores that. “He’s got pretty eyes.” He repeats dully.

            “Yep.”

            “Does he know anything you’re thinking?” Shiro finally asks, voice weakening at the sensitive topic. “Like… are you guys actually together or do you just meet up?”

            Keith lets the corner of his lips tilt up into a smirk. Finally they were getting somewhere he liked. He finds himself leaning in, face closer to Shiro’s. He was so handsome, all angles and broad and calculating. Attractive in a way that was noticeable to everyone that looked at him.

            “You jealous or something?” Keith asks. He doesn’t know if he wanted to sound smug or teasing, but his words come out taunting. It doesn’t bother him too much. It’s the way he thought them anyway.

            Shiro’s jaw sets and he leans away. His emotions are hidden well. Keith is yearning to know if he’s annoyed the man. Pissed him off. Hurt his feelings.

            “We’re together. He stays at my place, you know.”

            “Yet you’re here talking to me.” Shiro counters before biting his cheek. Keith’s smirk broadens slightly. Getting Shiro to share his thoughts on instinct was one of his favorite feelings. It made him feel accomplished, like he was finally catching his true feelings without the filter and calculating wording.

            “You invited me.”

            “You still came here though. That means something.”

            Keith pulls back a little. He takes to carefully shredding a napkin. He knows the mess is grating at Shiro’s nerves, but he doesn’t care. Just lets the papery scraps scatter across the sticky green tabletop.

            “You know, if I keep my eyes closed, he looks just like you.” Keith says quietly. The words have a filthy sort of sting in his mouth. The dirty truth hangs between them like a toxic cloud. “You’re not there anymore, but when I shut my eyes, it even feels like you-”

            “And when are you going to tell him that.”

            Keith lets his lazily lidded eyes open more as he looks directly at Shiro. His tone was stern. He was trying to stay calm, but Keith more than crossed the line. He pissed all over it and kicked it in Shiro’s face, and it’s not fair. Shiro didn’t get to be angry, not at him.

            “It doesn’t matter. He’s not going to stay long.” Keith says blankly. “Nobody ever does. He’s going to realize I’m just sex, and then.” Keith lets the smallest of smiles grace his features. Bitter smile or not, can’t remember the last time he smiled. “he’ll be gone.”

            “Keith-”

            Keith stands and grabs his muddy jacket, fingers playing with the collapsed box of half-smoked cigarettes in the pocket. His new habit had caught up with him quick, because he needed to smoke this off sooner rather than later, he decides as he leaves Shiro sitting at the table with three conflicted emotions on that handsome, handsome face.

             

            Shiro’s hands are at his hips, lips at his neck. It was warm and fulfilling and made him arch ever so slightly, a soft breath of air leaving his lips. The warmth travelled up to his stomach. Shiro’s bangs in his eyes, dragged down to the long scar across his nose. He squeezed his eyes shut even tighter. Shiro. This was Shiro. Only Shiro. Noncommittal instructions left his own mouth, empty commands of ‘don’t stop’, ‘keep going’, and ‘right there’ seemed to spur him on like they were magic words.

             

            When Lance brings him a bowl of brown rice with some sort of spicy red sauce, explaining to Keith that his Abuela taught him how to cook it and how he was so very, very excited to share it with him, his repressed thoughts seeped to the forefront of his mind. Lance had no idea that he didn’t fantasize about him, didn’t really think of him much at all, really. He didn’t like that Lance wasn’t deterred by his near indifference or guarded attitude.

            “She told me a good meal with someone you care about can really help to strengthen a connection.” Lance said earnestly, tucking into his own meal. “I just want you to always feel comfortable enough to talk to me, you know? Even though we didn’t use to get along, you really proved me wrong that day when I was having a panic attack. You were so sweet to me, and I know that’s the real you.” Lance smiles dopily at the thought. Keith’s muscles are tense. “I mean, look how far we’ve come since then!”

            Keith shoveled the food into his mouth as fast as he could, wordlessly nodding.

             

            This time when Shiro made the warmth spread through his body, he let his lips ghost around his ear, brushing the longer pieces of black hair away so he could whisper. Keith shuddered, leaning in closer.

            “You’re beautiful, you know.”

            Keith desperately tried to banish the image of Lance that had replaced Shiro. It wasn’t supposed to be Lance. But their voices were so different, what with Lance having a higher, more forward voice. His picture of Shiro burned at the edges, crumpling and tearing down the center.

            “Open your eyes.”

            “No.” Keith chokes.

            There’s an odd sort of pause.

            “O-okay. You don’t have to.” A kiss to his throat.

             

            Keith’s in his dirty, muddy jacket with tears streaming from his indigo eyes. Shiro looks so tired, so stressed.

            “I did everything for you!” Keith insists desperately. If Shiro would just open his fucking eyes-

            “I know.”

            “What did I do, then?” Keith begs as Shiro drags his bag across the wet, cracked cement that was the sidewalk of their front yard. “I make sure you have nothing to worry about at home! I listen to you! When you’re stressed, I let you have me! I left school to follow you out here-!”

            “I didn’t ask you to, Keith.” Shiro finally says. “You just did. And you would have done anything for me. You do everything for me. How is that fair?”

            Keith shakes his head. He doesn’t understand. The memory melds and twists until he’s standing where Shiro is, looking at himself. But even his own reflection seems to morph until it’s Lance, brown hair wet and patchy green jacket dirty. The hurt in those blue eyes is so familiar, it almost makes Keith lose his composure.

            “It’s fair because I like to help you.” Lance insists, taking a shaky step forward. “Don’t you see that?”

            “Of course I do.” Keith finds his voice saying. It’s almost weary, like he’s read this script one hundred times over. “How am I supposed to let you give yourself over to me in every way when I never intended for you to stay?” repeating the words spoken to him didn’t make him feel any better. Watching Lance’s naïve, confused eyes flicker around didn’t make him feel relieved at letting the truth out. “But you did stay. You fell in love with me even when I never did anything. I’m not the one you should be trying to love.”

            “Keith,” Lance’s blue eyes are spilling tears. “But I do-”

            Keith looks away. He can only imagine the understanding and pain on the other’s face as he mumbles, “Oh my God.” Keith wasn’t emotionally invested, never has been.

            It hurt Keith. He felt a stir of the emotions he’d pushed back so far, unaware that they even still existed. Feeling so deeply and so intimately had only caused him pain before, and he’d unintentionally inflicted that lesson onto another. Regardless of the fact that he never cheated physically, his mind was always far, far from Lance.

            As he walks down the jagged sidewalk, reaching for a cigarette, he reasons that he and Shiro weren’t so different after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Literally wtf @ me Shiro is my favorite character why did I even write this tbh lmao  
> Basically Keith unintentionally hurt Lance and treated him how Shiro treated him, and it is implied that something similar happened to Shiro. Hopefully Lance ends the vicious cycle (he will: he's best boy)  
> ***PSA: Don't treat someone like shit because you were treated like shit, and don't let someone treat you like shit just because someone else treated them like shit.
> 
> say hi on tumblr! @quirketta


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